


AntiFreeze

by IronSpoon (OddColor)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, I need to get this Bucky garbage out of my system, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-07-02 05:01:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 12,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15789465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddColor/pseuds/IronSpoon
Summary: They couldn’t freeze you. Thanks to whatever ungodly experiments that were done to you, your body temperature now ran high. When stressed, more so. Since they messed around a bit too muchbeforeinjecting you with that “serum” garbage, it apparently hadn’t given them their desired results. In fact, it didn’t seem to do anything, other than hurt like a sonofabitch. You would have been pleased that they had fucked up their own plans, if it weren’t for the alternatives. Since they couldn’t put you on ice, like all their other human science projects, it was a near constant goal for them to find another way to render you dormant. For years, failed attempts and near successes were made. Until one day someone was smart enough to figure out that you weren’t aging. Not at the normal rate, at least. Some part of their meddling had stuck, and with that discovery, they stopped trying to force you into hibernation and instead chose to simply confine you to a cell until needed.





	1. New Plan

**Author's Note:**

> On hiatus

Fascination over your abilities resulted in them pushing to see how far and how much you could do. Eventually they didn’t think you were doing enough. That you could do more, but simply weren’t. All of their attempts and techniques to control you had failed, and they had only themselves to blame. Any machine they strapped you into, you fried. Mechanisms and parts would begin to melt away or combust. Turns out keeping you fed was also cheaper than replacing all of that equipment you kept destroying.

The time spent in solitude caused bits of your sanity to fade, so when physical threats and punishments were made to get you inline, you didn’t react. Or you’d laugh. You retained enough of your senses to not incinerate anyone. You were pretty sure that whatever was going on with you, a bullet through your brain would put an end to it.

After being escorted back to a cell, following a particularly bad beating from some guards, you find yourself with a cellmate. You recognize him but you’ve never heard an actual name to go with the person in front of you. Figuring he’s there to deliver a repeat of the guards’ treatment, you don’t move once the door slams behind you. As much as you want to go and fall over onto the sorry excuse of a mat that was your bed, you had a feeling that any movement on your part would set this guy off. That was until you noticed the confusion on his face.   
He wasn’t expecting you. If he wasn’t expecting you, you figure he must not have orders to hurt you, and trudge over to the thin mat. Laying down in the first position that doesn’t cause you to cringe in pain, you look over at the man.  
“Do you know something I don’t?”  
“I don’t know. About what?” he replied.  
“Let’s start with why, all of a sudden, they decided to put two of us in here.”  
The man finally sits down, his back to the wall. No longer looking at you, instead choosing a random spot on the ground to turn his focus to.  
When he doesn’t respond, you keep talking, choosing to take advantage of this opportunity of having someone other than yourself to talk to.  
“You’ve been here awhile, haven't you?” you ask, trying to find a more comfortable position to lay in.  
Nothing.  
“They do that to you? Your arm?”  
He quickly glanced at his hand before looking in your direction. Now he was just staring, and still not answering you. You debate asking him his name, but think better of it. He’s been here much longer than you, and you weren’t even sure of your own name at this point, not having heard it in years. What you thought could be your name, might have been your friend’s name, or a teacher’s. Maybe it was the name of your favorite shop? You couldn’t be sure anymore and had stopped caring about something that seemed so trivial compared to your other concerns. 

Finally finding a position you think you could be able sleep in, you close your eyes. With the man’s gaze still on you, you speak up, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stare at me when I’m trying to sleep.”  
Eyes still closed, you’re not positive he’s looked away, but you manage to fall asleep for a while. Except for when the pain from your body shifting caused you to momentarily wake, you sleep until the man nudges your foot with his.  
“They’re on their way,” he says when you glare over at him, sitting in the same spot, same position he was in when you fell asleep.   
“Okay? You didn’t need to wake me up for that!”  
Annoyed, you lay your head back on your arm and wait. Guards coming by to either drop off food or check that you were still alive, was hardly any cause for concern.   
Footsteps approach the outside of the cell door and a guard begins shouting orders. Startled, you bolt upright, pressing your back against the wall and stand facing the door. It takes you a minute to realize that the orders aren’t being direct towards you, but at your new cellmate instead.   
As guards open the door, the man, who is now also standing, watches as they practically throw food into the cell and run. Hearing the clicking of the lock, he walks over and gathers up the odds and ends of leftover food that had just been flung onto the ground.   
When you noticed the orders had been for him and not you, you hadn’t been able to take your eyes off of him, wondering what it was about him that could cause such difference in treatment between the two of you. No one ever bothered to so much as speak to you when they came by, but with _him_...   
He hands you something bread-like from the collection before placing the rest in between the two of you.  
“Do they always do that to you?” you ask, looking the stale piece over, “The yelling and everything.”  
“Usually more,” he looked over to you, “They went easy for some reason this time.”  
You snicker, a slight smile forming when you reply, “Probably me. They don’t like to get me too worked up.”   
Grabbing a particularly nasty piece of inedible food, you watch the man’s face as the food quickly turns to ash in your hand. To your own amazement, he appeared intrigued, though you supposed someone in his position has seen their fair share of weird.  
“So. I showed you mine. Care to show me yours?” You nod towards his arm, hoping to get more of an answer from him this time.  
He clenches his fist, but does respond.  
“Yeah. Yeah, they did this.”   
“Just for shits and giggles? Or…? Not that it’d be surprising if-” you inquire, but he cuts you off.  
“No. I… an injury?” his voice became quieter, as if he wasn’t sure of his answer.  
Giving a slight nod of acknowledgement, you mumble to yourself, “Remind me not to lose any limbs around these people.”  
Once you’ve picked over the scraps, you lay back down. At first looking at the ceiling, then turning your head in the man’s direction.  
“So if you’re not here to knock me around, what’s the deal?” you wondered, “Get a friend for good behavior?”   
They still hadn’t beaten all of the snark out of you.


	2. Follow-through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a time jump. Don't hate me.

“They’re going to have me kill you.”  
“No they’re not,” you say, still facing the wall, “they’ll just have you break me. I’m still too useful to kill just yet.”  
For a split second, you feel his arm tighten around you, before it relaxes.  
It would probably be easier for him, if they had wanted him to kill you. Instead he would be the one holding your life right on the edge of death, time and time again. Until you begged and pleaded for him to just end it.  
You roll over to face him, brushing the hair out of his face.  
“We could ruin their plan,” you whisper, “Just do it now.”  
He takes a moment to process your suggestion. Considering the consequences… the benefits.  
Your eyes locked on his, you say, “I’ve seen you snap a guard like it was nothing.”  
He doesn’t answer, instead pulling you closer, resting his forehead on yours and closing his eyes.   
If anyone knew what horrors were waiting for you, it was him. He’d been in this place much, much longer than you had.   
You started to think he may have fallen asleep, but then you hear a soft, “I can’t.”   
Accepting what was about to happen, what was waiting for you in the very near future, you swallow back the lump forming in your throat.   
“Okay,” you manage, your voice beginning to break, “It’s okay.”

 

You woke up to the sound of the cell door being thrown open. Guards began barking orders at the two of you, shouting at the man to back away. He did as he was told, making room for them to lead you away.

It’s not the lab that they take you to, or even a useless cryo cell. Instead you’re taken to a large room and unceremoniously thrown into a cage-like area along the wall.   
Unlike the other areas you’d been held in, which had some sense of privacy, anyone passing by could see everything through the metal bars that made up three sides of the enclosure. Cameras facing various angles around this cell, along with adequate lighting, make it evident. Whatever was about to happen, they intended to record it for ‘research purposes’.   
You scoot towards the one solid wall, resting your back against it and pull your knees up to your chest. Every sound and click of the doors making you jump, multiple guards coming and going, all of them seemingly oblivious to you. You had started to think they’d forgotten about you, that maybe they’d run whatever experiment they had planned another day, when the door opens.  
You recognize a few of the people from your most recent time as their labrat, but it’s the larger than average amount of guards following them that catches your attention.   
And he’s with them.  
Closing your eyes as tight as you can, in hopes that when you open them he won’t be there. If he’s there, things are about the get bad.  
When you finally open your eyes again, a guard is opening the cell door and the man walks inside. You hear the door lock behind him and remain sitting along the wall.   
Someone starts giving orders and with that, the closest thing you’ve had to a friend in years makes his way to you. Towering over you, all you can do is stare up at at him. Before you can push yourself up to stand, he reaches down, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulls you up. Pinned against the wall, the glare of light off his arm is your only warning before the cold metal makes contact with your head.

 

When you came to, the lights seemed too bright and the room dances around you, but he was gone. Telling by the pain, a rib or two were cracked.   
The guards order you to stand, and you do so, slowly, by bracing yourself against the one solid wall. Nausea rushes over you, causing you to miss the next of their demands. When you fall back to your knees and begin dry heaving, two of them rush in, grabbing you by the arms, pulling you upwards, and begin escorting you back to your cell.   
You’re not sure if it’s the concussion or if you really are being taken somewhere else, but when you see the familiar chair along with its restraints and surrounded by machinery, you knew where the guards had brought you to. For a moment you started to panic. Even though these contraptions didn’t work on you, they still caused you a tremendous amount of pain.  
Until you fried them.   
The guards at your arms pull you closer to, and in front of the chair, tightening their grips. Now you’re able to see that this particular seat is already occupied.   
The look of horror and self loathing on the man’s face tugs at your heart. Clearly no longer under their control, he’s seeing the damage done to you through his own eyes. The damage and pain caused by his own hands that he was unable to stop.   
Once satisfied with the emotional pain, the guards continue pulling you along. With your back to him, you hear a muffled scream from the man. You turn to look back at him, but are only meet with the sight of the solid metal door. 

This pattern continued over the following weeks. Given enough time for topical wounds to begin healing, only to have new ones take their place. At first, the man always seemed to strike you unconscious immediately. You weren’t aware how your other injuries came to be.  
It wasn’t long before this tactic was noticed, and he was forced to make contact elsewhere before delivering any blows to your head. A pair of guards always made sure to show off the man’s handy work to him, confined and powerless, before taking you back to your cell.  
This place, these people, had messed up their plans when it came to controlling you. They had wanted a new weapon to use at will. When that didn’t work, they found a new way to control you. Inflicting pain had already proved fruitless, again thanks to their own mistakes. Instead they allowed you companionship. You had grown to care about someone, someone who they _were_ able to control. Now they would make him cause your pain… and, the real driving force behind it all, have you see what this was doing to him.   
The sooner you allowed them to have the control they so desperately craved, the sooner you could stop seeing your friend suffer.  
Their message? You were doing this to him. Just give in and he wouldn’t be in this pain any longer, being forced to do this to you.   
Tossed onto the familiar cell floor, you told them what they wanted to hear.  
“I’ll do it. Whatever you say. I’ll do it.”


	3. Punishment

Ice cracked as you were pushed through it to the water underneath.  
A large tank, specifically for purposes such as this, in some area of this HYDRA base, was now an all too familiar sight to you.

You had failed your mission. Again. Though it was through no fault of your own, you had still failed and you would suffer for it.  
Instinctually, you grasped at the wrist that held you down, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to attempt fighting back. He was in soldier mode now.  
Oh how they loved using him to hurt you.

Not that they had too many choices. You ended up sending one of their other soldiers away with serious third degree burns, requiring medical attention even for them  
This one, though… even if you were able to give him the same treatment as the other soldier, he still had that metal arm. The one he always made sure to use when holding you under the ice.   
You would surface, only long enough to gasp for air, just to be plunged back into the water. This would continue until your body heat had managed to melt away all of the ice. 

 

Being escorted back to a cell, metal fist still clenching your dripping wet shirt, a random guard approaches you and begins yelling. You’re still trying to compose yourself enough to simply walk, nevermind listen to this guy shouting. The guard goes to swing his fist at your face, and you can’t do anything other than close your eyes.

But it never makes contact. His yelling turns from angry to screams of pain, and you open your eyes to see that the man who still has a tight grip on your shirt, now also has an even tighter grip on the angry guard’s wrist. 

The two guards accompanying you to the cell begin ordering him to release the third, which he does after a split second of hesitation.

Once the door clicks behind the two of you, his hand finally lets go of you. Just like every time before.


	4. Missions

It had been ages since you’d seen him last.

Missions had been going well.

After the mess with the helicarriers and data release, you had been relocated.

No one told you directly, but you heard the agents mentioning that the soldier was gone.  
You knew better than to ask for clarification on what they meant by “gone”. Whether he had somehow managed to escape, or something worse happened to him, you were all but positive that you would never know the truth. Instead you chose to believe the stories you made up in your head.   
That he made it out of this place. Away from this life. That he was okay.

 

Looking in the mirror, you check over your hair and makeup. Smoothing out your dress with your hands, you release a deep breath before turning out of the bathroom and returning to the event.   
Some bigshot with connections to your target was hosting this monstrosity of a gathering. With a guestlist of this size, most people would be able to come and go unnoticed. Someone like you, even more so. 

Once you spot your target heading away from the more crowded areas of the building, you decide to make your move.  
Up the staircase and down a wide hallway. When they turn down a smaller, side hallway, you’re sure that this mission is nearly over.

Just as you round the corner, you’re greeted by a familiar face. A familiar face whose confused expression must be mirroring your own.  
He looked so different, standing in front of you now. Nothing like the worn down, shadow of a man he had been the last time you had seen each other.

Maybe HYDRA had lied to you. It wasn’t unthinkable.

What if he was still under their control and your target had managed to get away.

Slowly, you take a step back.

“I haven’t failed,” you state, staring him in the eyes.

They hadn’t given you a proper chance. If he hadn’t been standing there, you could have successfully finished your mission by now.

Taking another step back, you begin to shake your head back and forth.

“I can still do it.”

He just stares at you, not making any attempt to move closer, confusion still lingering in his expression.

It was unnerving how he just stood there.

“Please,” you whisper, “don’t take me back.”

Just then, he opens his mouth to talk. Before any words can come out, he looks past you, over your shoulder, and you turn to look. 

The floor seems to be rushing up at you. Before you can reach it, arms catch you. Your eyes unsuccessfully try to focus on anything that now appears to be swimming around you.

Just before your senses give out, you hear the familiar voice, “You’re safe. I’m here now and you’re safe…”


	5. Apprehended

“Do NOT restrain her!” Bucky shouts.  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Stark doesn’t even look at him when he responds. “She was sent in there to _kill someone_ Barnes. We need to restrain her somehow!”  
Bucky was now pacing around the conference room.  
“You can’t!” he argues, “Trying will only-”  
“Let’s keep the assassin comfortable, shall we?!” Stark interrupts.  
“She wouldn’t be the first,” Clint quips as he walks over, “You do have more than a few around here.”  
Turning on his heel, Stark looks bewildered, pointing at Clint and responding, “ _You_ were the one she was after!”  
He shrugs, “He clearly knows her. Might be good to listen.”  
“That’s exactly why we should NOT be listening to him, Barton.”  
“Just,” Bucky pauses for a moment, “just let me talk to her first. Assure her that she’s safe. Once she knows that this isn’t HYDRA, things will work out better for everyone.”  
Stark sighs and begins to leave the room. “We’re going to talk, Barnes. After this is over. You too Barton, for not siding with me.” 

 

“This is her?”  
He didn’t have to turn away from the observation window to know who was there, just letting out a quiet, “Yeah, it’s her.”  
The weight of what should have been a comforting gesture, Steve’s hand as he gripped his shoulder, caused Bucky’s chest to tighten. Steve was now standing by his side at the window looking in.  
“She’s out. You’ve got her now,” he reassured, noting the concern in Bucky’s face and body.  
Bucky nodded, but knew that her problems weren’t over simply because she wasn’t physically under their control. While it may not be to the same extent, Steve also understood this.  
“Do you want me to go in there with you?” he offered.  
“No.”

 

Bucky walked into the room where she was being held, still under sedation and thankfully unrestrained. The drugs should be wearing off soon, or so he was told, so Bucky decided to sit on the foot of the bed and wait for her to wake up.

He wanted to sit closer to her, to reach out and caress her face as she slept. What stopped him was her reaction earlier.  
While it had been a lifetime ago for Bucky, she clearly still associated him with that past. The parts of their past he wished had never happened. 

The time seemed to be dragging by, Bucky nearly considering getting one of the doctors in there to check on her again when he notices that she was finally starting to wake.


	6. Staying

You sat in confusion while your brain tried to make as much sense of things as it could.  
After a few minutes of silence, he looked at you. “I remember you being a little bit more… well more of a smart ass.”  
Looking up from the bed, you meet his eye, a small smile forming on his face.  
“You’ll have to stay here for a while,” he explains again, “at least until the others realize you’re not a threat.”

Panic hits you. You had to get back to let them know how the mission went. 

The smile quickly disappears from the man’s face. “I- I’ll be by. I’ll come by throughout the day to check up on you. Don’t worry.”

You stand up, your fear growing. “I have to go. They’re going to send him after me again.”

The man stands up and turns you around to face him. “Who are they going to send after you? No one will be able to get to you here.”

“They’ll send the soldier. They’ll send…” 

He pulls you in and hugs you close. “I’m already here and I’m not taking you anywhere. There’s no way in hell I’d take you back to them,” he whispered. “My name’s Bucky, by the way.” 

 

 

It had been a week since you woke up with him at the foot of your bed. 

A week since you learned his name. Learned that he and his friends would be keeping you safe.  
And while you didn’t quite think it would be possible, it had been 7 days and no one had come in to drag you back. Or torture you. 

Just like he promised, the man, Bucky, would come by multiply times a day to just sit with you. Sometimes he’d bring your food, other times showing up with a book or newspaper. He even brought a friend of his by a couple of times.

Between his visits, others would come by to question you. The first time, Bucky sat with them, making sure the person didn’t become too aggressive or pushy with you. When you were interrogated for the second time, they kept making nervous glances at the mirrored window, leaving you to assume that Bucky was watching over this interview as well.

After the latest round of questions, you hadn’t even walked the short distance from the table and chairs back to the bed before the door opened again. 

Bucky was accompanied by his friend again. It was this friend who spoke first.

“We’re going to move you out of here. What do you say?”

Immediately your eyes dart towards Bucky. Not sure exactly what the meaning behinds these words were, you couldn’t help but notice the panic rising. 

Were they throwing you back out, leaving you for HYDRA to find?  
Both men note the worry forming on your face. Bucky grabs your hand while his friend begins explaining.  
“Upstairs. Oh, I didn’t-” He pauses for a moment. “They’ve cleared you to move upstairs. You’ll still be here in the building with us.”  
After a reassuring nod from Bucky, you start to relax a bit.

The two of them help you grab the few belongings you’ve managed to acquire over the past week and they lead you out of the room and into an elevator.


	7. Progress

For the first few days, you don’t say much to anyone or wander very far from the room Bucky and his friend, Steve, told you was yours. In fact, you stayed in that room unless Bucky managed to coax you out.

It’s one of these times, when he’s convinced you to sit with him and a few of the others that live in the building, when someone you hadn’t yet met walks by.

“So this must be the Lady Soldier I’ve been hearing about.”  
You and Bucky both turn to look at him.  
“Oh shit! She even has the same glare as you,” he exclaims, patting Bucky on the shoulder as he passes behind the couch.  
He begins talking to Steve about whatever mission he’s just come back from before plopping down on an open seat and turning his attention back to the two of you.  
“Sex must be wild, huh?”  
“Sam!” Steve scolds. Someone lets out a muffled snort but is able to compose themselves before anyone else can see who it was.

“In case you haven't noticed, we’re a bunch of children trapped in adult bodies. Well, most of us.” Clint nods towards Steve at the last part.  
You give him a small smile of acknowledgment. Considering this man was the target of your last mission, he had been remarkably civil towards you. For that, you were thankful. The guilt was hard enough to live with without those around you holding grudges.

Most of the people you encountered were either friendly or indifferent towards you. Indifferent was preferred. Friendly you were not at all used to. Except from Bucky.

The only person who was obviously resentful about your presence was Tony Stark.

Bucky, and even Steve, had assured you that it was nothing personal, and given time he’d probably even warm up to you.  
“It’s because you remind him of me,” Bucky explained, noting the confusion on your face after your latest interaction with Stark.  
“I would have thought…” you had to pause to find the right name, “thought it would be Clint that would be hostile with me.”  
“No. As long as you’re not actively trying to murder him, he’ll usually let it slide.”

Over the following weeks, it took less and less to convince you to spend time out of your room. There were even times you’d managed to do so alone, without any persuading from Bucky. Then without Bucky at all.

Any time he would catch you out of your room, an enormous grin would form on his face as he continued on his way. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you were spending nights in each other’s rooms. Within the first few nights, the nightmares returned. First for you, then for him. So the overnights stopped.

This only caused yours to get worse.  
You were waking up to scorch marks on your sheets.

It’s after midnight when you wake up after a particularly bad episode. The entire room feels warmer than it normally would and you can feel the air system trying to correct it.

You get out of bed, needing to clear your mind and the heat from the room, and head to the kitchen.

At the table, you find Bucky sitting, hunched over a half eaten sandwich. Though he’s staring off into nothingness, he greets you without turning his head.

“Hey.”

“Still can’t sleep?” you ask.

“It’s getting worse,” he responds before taking another bite of his food.

“Yeah,” you say sitting down, “me too.”

After declining the remainder of his sandwich when he offers it to you, the two of you sit at the table in silence as he finishes eating. He clears the table, returns and takes your hand.  
“Come on,” he says, pulling you up from your chair, “we’re getting less sleep now than we were before. Might as well make use of it. Or at least, spend it together.”


	8. Test Results

Sitting cross legged on your bed, Bucky was gently rubbing your back as he sat behind you. Head in your hands, you fight back tears before speaking.  
“It’s because of them,” you say quietly.  
“Hmm?” He leans closers.  
“They’d always bring you to _me_. In my cell,” you explain. “That’s why the nightmares are worse when we sleep in here.”  
He stops moving his hand along your back and instead brings both arms around your stomach, pulling you closer to him. 

His own sleep troubles had leveled out after you resummed sleeping together. Having you close proved to be a comfort to him, the longer you were around. The nightmares became fewer and less intense. Which made sense, given the nature of them.  
Since you came back into his life, back into his bed, Bucky’s nightmare’s revolved around you most nights. The more he woke up from them with you still by his side, the less frequent they became. Subconsciously becoming used to the fact that no one was going to drag either of you away.

You, on the other hand, were having a much harder time.

He rests his chin on your shoulder. “Think it would help any if we made this place a little more… you? And less Hotel Stark?”

Turning to look at him, his arms still holding you tightly to his chest, his lips lightly brush across your cheek.

“How would we do that?” you questioned, leaning into him. “I don’t know ‘me’.”

“I’m sure we can get someone to help, if you wanted to.”

“Worth trying, I guess.”

With the sun just starting to creep in through the window, you decide to go ahead and start your day.

“Go back to bed if you want,” you assure Bucky, as he stands up and starts to follow you out of the room.

“It’s not as much fun if you’re not there,” he says with a playful smile. “Besides, I think I’ll see if Steve and Sam have already started. Join them today.”

 

After you grab something to eat, you head to the lab to see if anyone is there yet. Others had begun their day, but you weren’t sure if Dr. Banner would be ready this early or not.

Everyone involved with making these types of decisions figured it would be a good idea to run some tests on you. You were sure that there had been some sort of meeting where you had been the center of discussion. 

 

A couple of people were leaving just as you walked in. The young woman of the two let you know that Dr. Banner would be around any minute, so you take a seat at a table near some screens.  
The work on them captivates you. Leaning closer you notice a problem among a diagram and take it upon yourself to enlarge the image for a better look.

“Yeah, that part is causing us some trouble.”  
Startled by the sudden break in silence, you nearly jump off your stool.

Relieved to see that it's Dr. Banner behind you and not Stark, who wouldn’t have been nearly as pleasant about you nosing about their work, you stand up to greet him.

“Is this the only part you’re having trouble with?” you gesture back to the screen.  
He nods, “Mmhmm. Tony and I have been working on that for nearly two weeks.”

After leading you to a different area of the lab, he hooks a small device to your wrist, and though he explained its purpose to you, your mind was lingering on what you had seen on the screens while waiting.  
Once all of the needed tests were run and samples were taken, Dr. Banner apologizes to you once again, just like he had done throughout the testing.

“I’m going to go ahead and say it’s a good sign that we didn’t trigger a reaction from you with all of that,” he says, leading you back to the door.

“Yeah, that tends to happen when my fight-or-flight response kicks in,” you answer, your mind still elsewhere, “Hey, do have a pen and paper?”  
Scribbling something down on the piece of paper he handed you, you continue, “Didn’t feel the need to ‘fight’ or ‘flight’ in here Dr. Banner.”  
You fold the paper in half and return it to him along with the pen.  
“Maybe that will help,” you smile before leaving the lab.

 

It was a few days before you were called back to the lab to discuss the results of your previous visit. One of the first things you notice when entering was the additional person. Specifically, that this person was Stark. And it was looking like he was going to be a part of this discussion.  
“Take a seat,” Stark tells you, pulling out a chair from the table he had previously been leaning on.

After you sit down, the two men do the same. 

Stark pulls out a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. Holding it between his index and middle finger, he asks, “How did you know this would work?” 

“I did manage to pick up a thing or two during my stay with HYDRA,” you snap, unable to keep your annoyance to yourself.

Stark’s eyebrows perk up and a hint of a smile begins to form. You wait for his snarky comeback, or for him to tell you off, but are caught off guard with his response.  
“Well, thank you. That one has been driving us crazy.”

Dr. Banner looks nearly as shocked as you feel, causing him to stumble on the beginning of his words when he goes to change the subject to the test results.

You did your best to listen to what he was saying.  
“...so it’s difficult to tell if that’s a result of their experiments or the serum itself…”

_Your chest felt tight._

“...one of the side effects…”

_Cold walls of the cell. Its metal door._

“...possible that the serum intensified the prior effects…”

_The click of the lock. Water dripping off your hair and clothes._

“Banner! STOP!”

It was Stark’s voice that pulled you out of the past and back to reality. His eyes intense with concern as he looked right into yours.  
Then quieter, “That’s enough for now.”

Stark stands and walks around the table to where you’re sitting, looks down at you and places a hand on your shoulder.  
“What do you say the doctor and I go over your results, just the two of us, and we’ll let you know if anything important pops up?”

You nod, slowly standing up, and leave the lab feeling like your head is a few paces behind you.


	9. Improving Relationships

Later that day, Stark once again surprises you when he sits down beside you on the sofa.  
Leaning over, elbows on his knees, he looks at you. “How’ve you been doing? Since this morning?”

You close the book you were reading, setting it down on the coffee table in front of the two of you.

“I’m okay. Now,” you reply. “Took me a bit, but I’m okay.”

“Good. So, nothing noteworthy popped up in the results. I mean, you’re clearly a freak, but who here isn’t?” he says, beginning to wring his hands.  
He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Look. I know you and I haven’t exactly gotten along since you’ve been here, but…”  
You tilt your head in disbelief at what you’re hearing, waiting for him to continue.  
“BUT. If you wouldn’t mind coming by once in a while, Bruce and I would- uh- appreciate the additional-”  
Smiling, you cut him off, “I’d enjoy that. Thank you.”

“Right. Come by anytime,” he says as he stands to leave.

 

It isn’t long before you take Stark up on his offer and begin visiting him and Banner while they worked. Though you don’t have much to offer at first, when the two of them do finally need your help, they’re ecstatic about what you are able to offer. When you can’t give them any advice, the excitement of learning from these two is enough to make your day fly by.  
And they do include you, to your own amazement. Unlike with your previous… hosts…. where you had to pick up bits and pieces whenever you could, about whatever you could, Stark and Banner actually made an effort to both teach you and learn from you.  
One night as you were getting ready to leave, you noticed Banner smiling to himself, causing you to do the same.  
“What?” you ask him.  
“Nothing. It’s just, I can’t help but imagine what level you’d be at, if you hadn’t…” he trailed off, “I mean, you can sit here and practically keep up with me and Tony and-”  
You walk up and hug him, apparently catching him off guard. “That’s the nicest thing you could have said to me. Thank you.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Stark offers, as you pull away from Banner.

In the hall he begins, “He’s been wanting to compliment you on your work for a while now.”

Confused, you turn to look at him.

“He was worried about upsetting you. Like before,” Stark explained. “Didn’t want to bring up your past.”

You hadn’t really given it much thought, how your reaction to hearing him talk about your past may have affected him.  
“Oh, I hope he doesn’t think that always happens,” you exclaim, “it was just kind of… in-depth, going over that sort of information.”

Stark waved his hand, “No, he’s just more aware about triggering people's responses than most. Speaking of, how have you been sleeping? Nightmares still a problem?”

“Better, since I’ve been helping you two. I think it helps, keeping my head busy.”

Steve had informed Stark of your sleep problems. Though Bucky was technically responsible for keeping Steve updated on your progress, when it came to a potential fire hazard, Steve had wanted to get Stark involved _before_ anything major happened. Explaining why an entire bedroom turned to ash in the middle of the night would be much easier to do if he was already aware of the circumstances.  
Thankfully, things never made it to that point, though you did have to request additional sheets a few times. Oddly enough to you, this seemed to be a fairly normal request among most of the occupants here, who had some mishappening or another during their sleep… or other during activities.

“Great. There’s an upcoming mission, and we’re going to need Barnes. You going to be alright?” his voice earnest as he asked.  
He stops walking, placing his hand on your shoulder. “You can still go down there and mess around in the workshop or whatever to keep busy, if you need to.”  
At that, you had to fight back your urge to cry as you nod.  
“Yeah. I’ll be okay,” you squeak, “I’ll manage.”  
Concerned, Stark grips your other arm. “You sure?”  
“Positive. Never thought you’d trust me enough to leave me here,” you explain, tears beginning to form, “ _and_ I get to play with your toys?!”  
He smiles and lets you go, realizing that you weren’t upset. “Yeah, well, not _all_ of them.”

“I know,” you manage to smile.

 

 

You aren’t included in the mission briefing, not that you expected to be, but once the room cleared out, Bucky, Steve, and Stark all stayed behind. The building’s AI system notified you that the three of them were waiting for you in the conference room.

All three of them are still sitting around the table when you walk up. Taking a seat next to Bucky, he grabs your hand under the table. 

“Ground rules!” Stark announces. “No taking the suits out for a test drive.”

“No leaving the tower at all,” Bucky corrects him, with the scowl on his face clearly visible. 

“Why would she even want to leave without one of the suits?”

Bucky rolls his head to Steve, looking at him for help with Stark, so Steve takes over.

“Okay, no leaving the tower. No touching the suits,” Steve reiterates. “Both Clint and Rhodes will still be here, if you need them-”

“So don’t kill them,” Stark interrupts, earning himself another glare from Bucky.

Steve sighs before continuing, “Didn’t think I needed to say it, but the ‘no murder’ rule still applies.”

You had known that Stark was simply joking with you, your relationship having improved greatly over the past few weeks, but that didn’t stop Bucky from becoming offended on your behalf. 

After going over some details, how Rhodes would be your temporary “keeper” until the team returns, and the estimated time frame they’d be gone, Bucky and you say your goodbyes.

Even though you had been at the tower when the entire team had been out, with the exception of Bucky, you couldn’t help but notice how abnormally empty and quiet it now seemed.

The sound of the TV in the common room catches your attention and you decide to spend the remainder of the afternoon in there.


	10. Runaway

Goosebumps on your arms and the hair rising on the the back of your neck, you sat in the driver seat of a car. Taking all of the proper precautions to ensure it couldn’t be tracked, you knew that it did little more than buy you time.  
The mission was completed.  
The target eliminated.  
Your return had been expected over two hours ago and they would have had him ready to retrieve you the second you missed check-in.  
Two hours he had been searching for you.

While you did have a bit of a head start, he was much better at this than you were at running.

Rubbing one hand over your arm, you try to get the goosebumps to go away, while keeping your other hand tightly gripped to the steering wheel. Unease washes over you as you realize how close the gas tank is to being on ‘empty’, aware that with every stop he gets closer to finding you. Closer to bringing you back.

 

At the next opportunity, you pull the car into a small service station. It’s empty except for the employee working inside so you hurry out of the vehicle and refill the tank.  
Not paying would draw unwanted attention to you, so you make your way inside with the cash that you had acquired along with the car.   
Once inside, you no longer see the employee, who you had spotted through the window when you pulled up, so you place the money on the counter and walk back out. Taking your time simply for the sake of social norms would cost you. Not like the place was busy anyway.

 

Halfway between the building and car, that all too familiar hold forms around you. Managing to free one arm, you reach back to grab his face, hoping to burn him enough that he’ll loosen his hold on you. Just as your hand makes contact, your feet come off the ground. Being startled by the fact the he has now lifted you off the ground, carrying you back to the car, it takes you a moment to realize that he’s wearing the full facial mask and your powers are doing nothing to him in your current state. 

He lets go of you with one arm, allowing himself to open the driver side door. You take the slight freedom of movement and reach for a dagger you know is strapped to him. To your own amazement, you’re not only able to grab it, but even manage to swing it at his leg. Seeing your actions, the man turns your bodies just enough and slams them into the car, causing your fist, along with the blade, to collide with your own thigh.  
Still pinned between him and the vehicle, he takes the dagger from you, then all but tosses you into the front seat before climbing in behind the wheel.

You manage to pull yourself into the passenger seat, having been thrown in from the opposite door. He reaches across you and you can’t help but jump, staring straight ahead and holding your breath when you realize he’s pressing down the lock on your door.

Part of you hopes he’ll snap out of it. That he’ll be himself before reaching the base and the two of you can keep driving. Keep running. But nothing you’ve ever been able to do or say has brought him out of Winter Soldier mode.   
Bringing you back was going to hurt him. Being a part of whatever reprogramming that was waiting for you would be even worse.  
You keep your head forward and arms close, knowing he isn’t himself, but that there was a chance he might remember some of this.   
“Don’t blame yourself,” you say, voice flat, “I know you will. But don’t.”


	11. Routine

It had become a bit of a routine. Mornings were spent in various labs and workshops, tinkering around and keeping busy. As the afternoon eased into evening, you would make your way into the common area where you’d sit on the opposite end of the sofa as Clint.

Clint, who ever since that first night, was always waiting there when you arrived. 

Rhodes always came up to eat dinner with the two of you and would stick around to watch a movie or simply hangout, if he wasn’t too terribly busy.

The soonest day that the team could have returned, came and went. It had been a best case scenario, and you hadn’t honestly expected them to be back so soon, but you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment when they didn’t show.  
Another day went by and you found it difficult to distract yourself among the machines and computers, so you headed to the common room earlier than usual.  
Silence greeted you, though you weren’t sure if it was more of a comfort than sound would have been, and you sit in your usual spot on the couch.  
Not long after you arrived, Clint walks in.

“Didn’t realize I was so much fun to be around,” he says to you.  
He could tell by the puzzled look you gave him that you weren’t understanding what he meant.  
“You’re earlier than usual s’all,” he explained as he fell into his seat.  
“Oh,” you reply, “I was having trouble keeping busy today.”  
Clint turned his head to you, corners of his mouth turned down, brows furrowed, surveying your facial expressions.  
“Hey.” He scootched to the cushion closer to you and placed his hand on your lower arm. “This is normal for them. There’s nothing to say that they’re in any sort of trouble right now.”  
You give a quick, silent nod, but Clint’s concerned gaze just seems to focus that much more on you.  
“You know, you can always come find me, if it gets too quiet up there,” he offers, motioning to his head, “or too loud. Whatever.”

The rest of your evening continues as usual. Rhodes shows up for dinner, the three of you watch a movie, and eventually everyone wandered off to their rooms and living quarters.  
You’re surprised by how easily sleep comes, but not at all surprised by the nightmares.


	12. Failed Mission

You had failed your mission. Or did you? It didn’t really matter, either way he was there.

Trying to get as much distance between yourself and his looming figure, you rapidly kick your feet to push yourself away. Back pressed against the wall, you try to remember your latest mission. It had been far too long for them to be sending him in now for some mistake. You hadn’t been sent out on a mission in months. But they weren’t known for always playing by the rules.

With every step closer, your brain tries harder to find fragments of memory, tries to find any reason why he’d be here.  
Now, within arms reach, what little light there is in the room reflects off the metallic appendage that’s making its way ever closer towards you.  
As you lift up your own arm to soften the blow, deciding to take a broken arm over a broken jaw or cheekbone, you wish you could remember what this was for. Remember where you had failed. 

 

 

 

 

Just when the sleek metal touches your skin, you remember. He gently pushes your arm down, away from your face.  
“I didn’t kill him,” you start to cry, “I’m sorry!”  
“What?”  
“The target… Barton. I didn’t kill him.”  
“I would hope not.” He sits down next to you. “Are you alright?”  
You can’t help but flinch when he reaches up to touch your face, causing him to quickly pull away, the hurt obvious in his eyes.  
The two of you sit in silence, until finally, voice sullen, he speaks. “FRIDAY, send medical in here.”

  



	13. Causes

Bucky was kneeled down on the floor with her, keeping his distance but refusing to leave her alone, staying within reach if she needed him. She had pulled her knees up to her chest, staring straight ahead and refused to look at him.  
A member of the on-site medical team was at the doorway speaking with both Steve and Stark about the current situation. Once done, Steve retreated into the hallway while Stark carefully walked into the room.  
“Barnes. Why don’t you go talk to your buddy out in the hall for a bit? Let the two of us catch up some in here?” Stark suggested, pointing at himself and then the woman hugging her knees.  
Bucky turned to look at her, though she still couldn’t bring herself to do the same, before standing up and walking over to Stark.  
Back straight, he glared at Stark and growled, “Do not restrain her. If I fi-”  
“Got it,” Stark interrupted. “And don’t worry. We’re just going to talk.” His voice had softened with those words and Bucky was positive it wasn’t for _his_ benefit.  
Once out of the room, Bucky stood just out of the doorway, making sure he could intervene if necessary.  
Stark crouched down in front of her. She looked up at him and said, “You’re back. Everything went okay?”  
“Yeah, yeah sweetheart. Everything went great,” he responded, a half smile forming on his lips. “But, hey, I wanna talk about how you’ve been doing. Since we left. You alright?”  
With a nod she replied, “Yeah. It’s been quieter than usual, but I’ve been fine.”  
Stark’s smile broadened as he placed his hand on her shoulder.  
“What do you say we go and visit Bruce? He’s already hiding away in that lab of his, but he’ll be thrilled to see you.”  
After a moment and a hesitant nod in agreement, the two of them stand and walk to the door.  
Before the reach it, Bucky takes a couple of steps back to give her some space. As they walk pass, Bucky notices her hand reach for Stark's arm as her eyes widen, seeing him standing in the hall outside of her room.  
While Stark had been in her room, Steve had been explaining to Bucky that they were hoping that she’d let Banner look her over and run some tests, seeing as she was more comfortable with him than any of the medical team.  
Bucky didn’t need to be a doctor to see that _he_ was the only thing triggering this reaction from her.


	14. Realization

Bruce had hooked you up to the same equipment as the last time the team had wanted to run tests on you. He asked all of the same sort of questions about how you were feeling and how you had been sleeping since they had been gone.

“Do you remember when you found out we were back?” he asked, sitting across from you.  
It seemed like a silly question.

“Of course.”

Bruce waited for you to continue.

“Stark was in my room. And... ?” you wanted him to give you some hint as to where this was going. It all seemed so obvious to you. You realized that they had returned when you had seen Stark. He had walked into your room before bringing you here to see Bruce.

“Do you remember _why_ Tony was in your room?”

 

It hit you. Eyes wide, the color drained from your face. You stand up, only to lose your balance. Bruce helps you brace yourself by holding onto your forearms. 

“Where is he?” you ask, looking at Bruce, horrified.  
He tries to guide you back to the chair, to get you to sit back down.

“No one else is going to come in here. Not unless you want them to.”  
Shaking your head, you try to explain, “I need to see him. I need to tell Bucky-”  
Finally sitting down, you realize, you don’t know what exactly it is you’re wanting to tell Bucky. That you thought he was there to hurt you? That you didn’t fully recognize him? Neither of these would go over very well, you didn’t imagine, especially given the fact that the second Stark showed up, you had remembered exactly who _he_ was.

Head lowered, staring at the floor, you tried to figure out what to say to him, but nothing you could think of made any sense.  
“I just need to see him,” you quietly say, looking back up at Bruce.  
He takes out his phone for a minute, presumably texting someone, then puts it back into his pocket.

 

When you hear the sound of the lab doors opening, you don’t turn around. As unbearable as it would be to see any signs of hurt on Bucky’s face, you knew that seeing resentment would be far worse.  
Two sets of footsteps slowly approach you, making their way to the side and in front of you. Finding it difficult to look directly at the person the footsteps belonged to, you keep your gaze focused on the ground.  
Bruce leans in closer to you and asks, “Are you okay?”  
With a deep breath and a quick nod, you attempt to assure him that you’re stable enough to be face to face with Bucky.  
Though skeptical, he stands and moves out of the way, offering Bucky his seat.  
Bruce walks a bit further away and begins talking with Steve, who seems to have come along more for emotional support than anything else.

Preparing yourself for whatever you’d see when you looked at his face, you simply weren’t expecting the emotionless appearance Bucky was managing to pull off. You had begun scanning his face, his body language for any possible sign of a break in his reserve.  
Mistaking this as a repeat of early, he turns his head towards Steve, but before he manages to get Steve’s attention you’re out of the chair with your arms wrapped around him.  
Caught off guard, it takes him a second longer than usual to return the embrace. When he does, you can feel yourself fighting back tears.

“I didn’t mean to,” you mumble into his neck.

He pulls away enough to see your face and you’re once again thrown off by his facial expression. 

With the corners of his mouth beginning to curl up, he struggles to keep the laughter from his voice, “Didn’t mean to do what?”  
He wipes a tear that’s somehow managed to make its way down your cheek and leans in again.  
“It was a slip,” he whispers, stroking your hair, “It doesn’t mean that you’re not getting better. It happens.”  
With that, he gently kisses you before turning towards Bruce.  
“Is she okay to leave?”

Once he had Bruce’s reassurance, Bucky was eager to get you back upstairs and to return to your lives. 

 

It took a few days before your chest would stop tightening up whenever Bucky would turn around a corner or come through a doorway, catching you off guard. After the first few times it had happened, he was able to keep the disappointment from showing on his face. If he expected you to be in an area, he would subtly announce himself by making whatever he was doing or saying louder than necessary before reaching you.

 

Once things had returned to normal, the discussion of another mission had come up. You were reassured that this mission wouldn’t be near as long as the previous one. Bruce had suggested that the duration of the mission may have played a part in your reaction to Bucky’s return.  
Set to leave in the early morning, a handful of team members would be gone overnight and return the following day.  
A plan had been made for their return, which included the building’s AI system alerting you ahead of time about their expected arrival. Plus, Bruce would also be staying behind this time. 

 

After they left, you found yourself falling back into the routine you had formed the last time Bucky was gone. Which included heading to the common area to curl up in that usual spot on the couch.  
When you got there, you were met with silence. Clint having been one of the others needed during this mission, your usual movie partner was missing.  
You lean forward to reach for the remote to the TV and notice the piece of paper sitting right next to the remote.  
Scribbled on it was a channel number and time, along with the signature _'Clint'_.


	15. Vulnerability

Missions came and went, all with minimal problems upon the team’s return. Changes were made depending on who would be staying behind and how long they would be gone for.   
Anytime Stark and Bruce were gone, you would keep busy in the labs. If one, or both, of them remained in the tower, they would keep you company as well as help ease you back into Bucky’s return.  
TV with Clint was part of your routine regardless of who was where. If he was gone, he’d always leave a note behind with the channel and time. It wasn’t unusual for others to wander in and join you both.  
A majority of the tower is no longer off-limits to you, though leaving the building is still deemed too risky. 

 

“I don’t know how you haven’t gone crazy, being stuck in here for so long!”  
Stark smacks the back of the head of the young man who has been working in the lab with you lately.   
“Really kid?” Stark scolds him.  
Puzzled, the younger man squints at Stark trying to work out what he did wrong. When he figures it out, he silently mouths “Oh!” with eyes wide in shock.  
As he turns to you and begins apologizing, you look up from the table and smile, “It’s fine.”  
He continues to stumble over his apology as Stark cuts in, “Peter. Why don’t you go check in with that aunt of yours?”   
“See, I know that’s just your way of asking me to leave, which is all you had to do, you know? Ask?”   
“Out,” he responds, motioning to the exit.

Once it’s just the two of you, your attention is on Stark.  
“Uh oh, what’d I do now?” you jest.  
“Some of us have been discussing the benefits of you coming along on a few missions with us. Would that be something you’d consider?”  
“Leaving the tower?” The realization of what his offer would really mean hits you. You would have to leave the safety of the building and be at your most vulnerable since your arrival. You also hadn’t been on any type of “mission” since you had been sent after Clint.  
Stark walked over to a stool near you. Sitting down he begins, “You haven’t been kept up to date on any of the details of our recent… _outings_ , and with good reason, but I can tell you that we’ve been on top of any major threats towards you.”

While you knew they had been protecting you by keeping you safe while here at the tower, you hadn’t really given it any thought about them doing much else. Now Stark was telling you that entire missions of theirs had been dedicated to your safety.  
“I wouldn’t be asking you to do this if we didn’t think that it was necessary.”


	16. Aftermath

\---

 

The mission hadn’t gone according to plan.  
Everything had been going well for a while, but no one could have known what was waiting for you in that room. Even _you_ hadn’t considered the possibility that he would have been transferred there.

 

\---

 

The remainder of the team had decided to have an informal meeting while the therapist was visiting. Bucky attempted to piece together what he could for everyone.  
“He was assigned as her main… handler, about 10 years ago,” Bucky explained.  
Steve looked away from his friend and focused on the floor at his feet. Stark stared intently at Bucky, mouth agape as he listened in horror.  
“He liked to keep her close. Showing her off while using her as his personal bodyguard.”

He continued to explain to them why you couldn’t do anything other than stand there, motionless, with this man in the room. How HYDRA’s programming still had its hold on you, causing you to wait for his orders.

At this point, Stark had begun pacing around the room.  
“I sent her in there,” he said, shaking his head. “She wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t asked her to go.”

 

\---

 

You sit down on the edge of the bed, only to immediately spring back to your feet and begin pacing. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky’s voice is clear in your head. You know he’s entered the room, but you’re too busy pacing to pinpoint where exactly he’s standing.

“I need to leave. I can’t stay here.” Your explanation is said more to yourself than to him, as your mind is racing and you’re starting to feel like a trapped animal.

“Do you have _any_ idea what these people have gone through to keep you safe?! Where all we’ve been? Just now, this latest mission was all for _you_ and _your_ safety.”

Your feet stop. Looking up at Bucky you plead, “What do you want me to say?”

“What I want is for you to realize that I am trying to help. We all are.”

Sitting back on the bed, you run your hands over your face and hair before pulling your legs up, resting your chin on your knees.

“I don’t belong here. It’s exhausting, pretending to be something I’m not. Acting like I’m not some sort of monster.”  
Brows furrowed, he takes your chin in his hand, lifting your face up to his, but before he could begin to speak, you do.  
“That’s what they do. That’s what they’re good at. Turning people into weapons. Into machines to be used. Torn apart or destroyed when they stop working exactly how HYDRA wanted,” your voice daring him to disagree with you.  
His hand dropping from your face, Bucky straightened his back before inhaling, seemingly attempting to compose himself. Bracing yourself for whatever he had to say, you were caught off guard when he turned away from you and stepped towards the door.  
“It’d be a mistake to keep two of those in one room then,” his voice flat and emotionless as he left.

 

You stayed in your room for the next few hours, only leaving once dinner time approached.  
Making your way down to the kitchen, you’re slightly relieved not to have run into Bucky along the way. But as everyone else takes a seat, including Steve and Sam, your stomach drops.

Being so caught up in your own emotions and frustrations, you didn’t stop to think about how the person you were talking to had been in the same situation. While you were spewing out all of your self hate and insecurities, it never crossed your mind that those words could also describe the one you were telling them to. Not until now.

\---

 

Stark whipped around to face him, with annoyance showing on his face and the anger barely contained he kept his voice low, “While I am _terribly_ sorry about the current state of your relationship, that was NOT high on our priority list with this mission.”  
When Bucky didn’t immediately respond, Stark continued, “Her mental health, however, was. And given the circumstances, she did-”  
“She’s locked herself in her room, Stark! This is _after_ she nearly left the place.”  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Stark closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  
“Obviously, her therapist will be coming to talk to her on a regular basis. Just like we all planned before leaving. We prepared for this the best we could Barnes, remember?”  
It was true, that the team had carefully planned for the repercussions of having her go on this mission. And yet, Bucky hadn’t been at all prepared for this particular reaction from her.

“If there’s nothing else you’d like to discuss, I suggest that you leave.”  
Bucky stood motionless for a moment.  
“You’re her friend. Just talk to her. Make sure she’s okay.”


	17. Regret

Bucky had his routine, and usually stuck to it. Since he had been making the effort of steering clear of you, you had decided to give him his space. And knowing where he’d most likely be this time of day, the indoor running track seemed like a safe place to do so.

 

You couldn’t exactly take back what you had said the other day anyway. Every word that came out of your mouth, you had meant. 

You begin your run, choosing to stay away from anyone else who just happened to also be using the track. Maybe avoiding _everyone_ right now wasn’t the best idea, as it left you alone with only your thoughts, and guilt, for company. 

Everytime that guilt started to creep its way in, you’d pick up your pace, pushing yourself a bit more in a subconscious attempt to outrun your regret. 

The more you told yourself how Bucky should know that you were talking about yourself and not him, the worse you felt. Every time you told yourself that Bucky would just have to get over it, you were reminded that he would never have told you to _just get over it_. Not when it came to things like this. 

Finally, you slow your run. Stopping, you kick the ground, frustrated at yourself. You decide to take the stairs back, giving yourself plenty of time to think about how to approach him and how to apologize. If he’d even listen. 

It didn’t take long to find him working out in the gym. At first you were relieved when he noticed you and headed your way. But that relief quickly disappeared when he spoke.  
“Came to relive those good old days? Monster versus monster?” his words sounding every bit as cruel as he had intended.   
Anything that you may have been prepared to say was now being shoved away, being replaced with the urge to cry.   
“Or… was it ‘machine’?” he hissed.  
You couldn’t move, nevermind speak, for fear of sobbing uncontrollably, and just stared straight ahead.   
Bucky stepped to the side and walked out of the gym. The sound of the doors closing causing you to lose the last of your control, your shoulders started to shake as the tears began to roll down. You quickly bring your hand up to cover your mouth, not wanting to attract the attention of the few people in the room, as you go to leave.  
Knowing you can’t make it back to your room without being stopped by a ‘concerned friend’, you opt for an empty conference room to completely break down in.


	18. Movie Night

Perched on the back of the couch, Clint was waiting in the common area along with Natasha. A few of you had decided on doing a movie night since things were relatively slow with everyone right now. As you walk over to him, Clint slides his feet to either side of the cushion they were just on and you sit down between his legs.

“Nobody wants to see that!” Sam shouts as he enters the room, pointing at the two of you with a look of forced disgust.  
Grabbing your shoulders, Clint slides down off of the back of the couch and wedges behind you. Legs going to the sides of yours, he throws his arms around you in a tight embrace and looks over to where Sam is now sitting. “Better?”  
He only rolls his eyes before turning to the large television screen.

Natasha makes her way to sit down, walking behind the couch and reaching out to smack Clint in the head along the way. “Steve’s on his way,” she warns. Before you can tell yourself that you had just imagined her tone, you catch Sam looking your way again and Clint loosens his grip on you and stretches an arm along the back of the couch.   
Okay, something was up.

“Is “Steve” code for something?!” you demand.

No one needed to answer you, as Steve had just walked in. Along with Bucky.  
Of course.

It wasn’t any secret that you had been seeing Clint, things like that rarely stayed quiet for long around here, but Bucky and you had still been avoiding each other whenever possible.

Still, you weren’t quite sure what the big deal was. Or who had initiated it being a _deal_ to begin with. Whatever the case, Clint was no longer putting on the show he had been just moments prior for Sam.  
After a few minutes of bickering, someone finally chooses a movie. You’re no longer sitting between Clint’s legs, sensing how uneasy it was making him. Instead you sprawled out on the remaining cushions and rested your head on his thigh. From this angle, you were able to notice him subtly glancing over at Natasha, which he did before any advancement in intimate contact. You couldn’t see Natasha’s reaction to his check-ins, not without making it obvious that you were doing so, and decided to just let it be.  
When Clint eventually moved his arm from the couch and draped it somewhat casually over you, you take this opportunity to interlace your fingers with his, ensuring his arm would stay put and not be spooked away by whatever pact these two had. It wasn’t long after this that you began to drift off.

\---

An incoherent mumble is what sent him into high alert. He tried to keep calm and look like he was still paying attention to the show, but then she did it again. Bucky couldn’t help but turn towards the two of them as the sounds she was making in her sleep became more frequent, more distraught. Clint was now looking down at the woman laying on his lap, obvious concern showing in his eyes. 

“...do it…” she murmured, tossing her head. 

Clint went to move the hair that had fallen into her face. “She’s burning up.”  
At that, Bucky shot up from his seat. “Set her on the floor!” he shouted, shoving the coffee table away from the couch, “NOW!”  
As Clint set her on the hard floor, Bucky kicked the couch back, creating a clear area around her.

Her ramblings had picked up in urgency, sounding closer to pleading now.  
Bucky pulled Clint away from her by his shoulder. “Get back,” Bucky ordered, before leaning over her body and placing his mouth close to her ear. He could feel her body heat continuing to rise, radiating off of her skin, through her clothes. 

It had been years since he had needed to calm her out of this, but the words came back to him easily. Whispering just loud enough to keep it between the two of them, Bucky began telling her the same things he told her when they were back in that cell.

Back when HYDRA first started sending her out on missions. Unsuccessful missions which were met with the only form of reprogramming that would work with her. The Winter Soldier.  
Once the physical portion of their reprogramming was done, he’d get to sit there and see the damage he had done to her. And she would get to see it on his face.  
When these nighttime episodes would happen, Bucky would try to make it up to her, pulling he out of whatever hell she was reliving.  
“You’re safe. We’re at the compound,” he began, stroking her face with metal fingers. “No one is hurting you. _I’m_ not hurting you.”

Her body temperature stopped rising. Bucky remembered this being a good sign, so he continued, cradling her head in his hands. Variations of “we’re home” and “safe with friends” kept flowing from his lips until she finally started to come out of it. 

\---

Trying to catch your breath, you reach out for anything to keep you from going under again. Your body reacts to the ice cold water by overcompensating with its own temperature fluctuations. Fabric in hand, your grip tightens around his shirt and you pull yourself out of the water, attempting to get enough oxygen into your lungs before being forcibly submerged once more.   
You inhale again before realizing that he isn’t pushing you back into the water, but instead holding you close. The hand that isn’t clinging to his shirt for dear life reaches around his back, anchoring onto him. You see Clint from the corner of your eye, looking worried but keeping his distance.   
_He shouldn’t be here._ You look at Bucky for answers.  
 _“Get him out of here Bucky,”_ you try to plead, but your voice doesn’t want to cooperate.   
You hear the TV somewhere in the room, a familiar room. Looking around, you find yourself in the common room where you had been watching a movie with friends. Definitely not back at that HYDRA facility. Letting go of your grasp on Bucky, you push yourself away from him, take a few deep breaths and slowly stand up off the floor before heading out to the balcony. You hug your arms around yourself and avoid looking in the direction of anyone.


End file.
